Potts
by theramblingfangirl
Summary: Having recently moved to England, Ms Potts decided to go out grocery shopping with her infant daughter. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary, or any more difficult than what you would typically expect when trying to go shopping with a baby. That is, until Ms Potts realises that she's being followed.


Ms Potts had decided long ago that going shopping in England wasn't easy.

Even when you'd memorised everything you needed to buy, there was the rush of people clamouring for the same thing that you'd have to contest with, along with the chance of you getting there and finding it out of stock.

It wasn't like this at home, at home there'd be open markets full of people under the brilliant sky who would chat and gossip as they traded and browsed the stalls. This wasn't anything like home.

But then again, home wasn't anything like home anymore by the time she had left, was it? Not anymore. There were many, many reasons, after all, that she'd left-

She would have dwelled more on that, reminisced about times gone by, but she was abruptly jarred from those thoughts by a large, metal object thudding down on her foot.

The throbbing pain that quickly followed as Potts winced, was also accompanied with the sound of a baby laughing.

It seemed that letting Billie play with the pot was a very bad idea, she concluded, even if it had seemed to keep her entertained while mum did the shopping.

Such a stupid mistake to make too, not paying attention to that. It wasn't even like this was her first time as a-

This time the train of thought was shut down on purpose. She had a new life in a new place, a good life with little Billie, and she was not going to spend her time thinking about what she could never ever get back.

"No! No throwing things Billie!" She scolded, leaning past the baby seat to put the picked up pot in the main part of the trolley this time.

The occupant of the baby seat took that opportunity to grab the phone carelessly poking out of her mum's slung on bag, and drop it on the floor, giggling and clapping her hands in glee as it skidded along the polished tiles, apparently thinking they were playing some sort of game.

"Billie stop it!" This got the glances of a few disapproving customers, shaking their heads at what appeared to be a young mother unable to control her child.

But she paid them no heed as she bent down to try retrieve the phone, praying that it wasn't broken.

It was then, that she noticed the feet. Black shoes and dark trousers, still somewhat in the distance, but striding surely towards her.

Normally, she would have dismissed them, this was a supermarket after all, there were many other people walking towards her direction. The one reason she didn't is that she'd noticed something else about them, something far more significant than the colour of clothing.

Something, that started to make her panic.

It took a measure of will to act like that wasn't the case, to get up at a normal speed and keep a measured face as she started pushing the trolley again, ears strained to listen to any word that might come out of the person's mouth.

But Billie, Billie still seemed to notice, her daughter being ever such an observant little girl, that something was wrong, and started reaching out, keening to be picked up.

Her mother hushed her, crouching over without breaking her stride. While she was ready to pick her up and run if it came to it, she didn't want to alert the person that she'd noticed them yet. Perhaps it was just the war veteran in her making her paranoid, perhaps there was a chance that them being here was a coincidence, that they weren't specifically looking for at all, and if that was the case she definitely didn't want to tip them off…

It was at that she risked a glance at them, just a little peek that was all it was supposed to be.

They weren't supposed to have made direct eye contact.

And then they called out her name.

It was at this exact point she broke out into a sprint, uncaring for anyone else in front of her, the trolley almost ramming several customers who were slow in getting out of the way.

The person called after her, and she could tell they'd also broken out into a run, trying to catch up with her.

But she just needed to get to her car, if she got to the car it would buy her at least some time to take Billie and go somewhere else. Perhaps the Scottish Highlands, or would it be a better option if she left the UK entirely? Or would that take too long, leave them confined in a plane or even a train without a way out for too long with an active pursuant…

One thing she knew was that going back to the flat wasn't an option. If they'd found her here in a store, there was no question that they'd know where she lived.

However, just as the exit came into sight, she saw security barring her path, a ranting customer complaining at one of them while the rest scanned the crowd, clearly with a target in mind. She recognised the customer as one of those she'd nearly rammed, them clearly having decided not to just drop it.

She bit back a scream in frustration. She could probably get through them if she tried, but it wasn't a risk she wanted to take with her pursuant so close behind.

She'd have to shake them first.

So with that she pivoted, an idea formulating in her mind.

And with that, started a session of pursuant and pursues weaving in and out of aisles, the gap between them only ever closing or gaining a few paces at a time, both aware that security would be about to clamp down on this "nuisance" any moment now.

And with that threat looming above them, Ms Potts forced her body, foot still aching from the not-forgotten pot, to move faster with a final burst of energy, before flying around the corner at the aisle. As this happened she wrenched two things from the trolley- her daughter and that pot- before kicking it down the upcoming aisle and flinging herself and the baby around the corner of the next one.

She now had moments till she'd have to enact the next part of her plan, and after that she'd have to get to the car within no more than a minute, and that was being kind regarding her chances.

Billie was wailing now at being ripped out of her seat as her mother desperately tried to shush her, hurriedly bouncing her up and down and assuring how this would all be over soon. Not only because she didn't like to see her daughter cry, but also because she needed to be quiet for the plan to work. The pursuant couldn't come down this aisle first.

She was not letting them take them back. They were not going home, recall order or not.

The war had left Gallifrey in ruins, the government even more blatantly corrupt than before and it was no place to raise a child, especially not one like Billie!

No, they were staying on Earth for as long as she could help it, so if they wanted them back, they'd have to drag them home kicking and screaming!

That was why, the moment she sensed the pursuant Time Lord following down the aisle she'd kicked the trolley, she followed behind with one arm clinging to her child and the other raising the pot.

Had she at any point taken the time to focus in any more on the pursuant than to learn their species, then the prodigal psychic would have recognised who they were and stopped right then, especially at this proximity.

But panic and paranoia did not make a person rational.

So she didn't realise who it was until she'd already thwacked them across the head with a metal pot, sending him clattering into the nearby shelf to the screams of horror of nearby observers.

"Grandfather?!"

The pot clattered to the ground, hearts stopping as she realised who this man really was.

"Hello Susan!"


End file.
